The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1887-03-02

doctors. My sister was n widow, depend
ent upon myself, and with hardly hope
or wish in life beyond the happiness of
her daughter. She was most favorably i'm
pressed with Raymond, and the account
that l was able to give OF his wealth and
position of course increased her satisfac-
ton. told her, as felt bound to tell her,
the whole story of the young mans mental
abeiralion; and the good, motherly soul
smiled with great complacency at the mar
rative. She had known, she said, lots of
romantic young people affected In that
way; but she never had heard OF any such
| foolishness surviving marriage.
"Or, certainly, the appearance OF the
first baby" ventured TO remark. My sis
ter tried to frown, ended it with laugh,
and said that if there was nothing more
against Mr.. Wager than what she had
heard, ahe would be willing to take the
/ risk.
And SO, with everything seemingly fair
about these beautiful young lives, what
was to come to shadow them2 What was
to bring misery, doubt, and estrangement
between them?
Gradually, almost imperceptibly, as the
middle of April came, Raymond's demeanor
changed. 1t was noticed that he became
distracted. Then that he became moody,
almost sullen; then that he would fire.
quently shudder, and place his hands over
his eyes; and once he left the company of
Jeanne so abruptly that she feared he was
offended, and followed She found that
he had betaken himself to his room, and
locked the door; and the poor girl heard
him pacing the floor moaning and sobbing,
and talking incoherently to himself. On
the 22d of April he took to his bed, sick,
with decided symptoms Of cerebral fever.
My task had now begun in earnest. 1
put all my patients except the most urgent
cases in the hands of a brother physician,
and devoted myself as closely as possible
| to RAYMOND. The time had now come,
too, when his betrothed-for Jeanne was
such had right TO be told his whole sto-
nv; and told her. True, brave woman that
she was, the recital only provoked her
sympathy, and augmented her devotion.
With me she watched assiduously at his
| bedside, patient, loving, hopeful, but al
most overcome with grief.
Let me spare these details. To my pro-
! fessional eyes the fever that had Frustrated
| Raymond was as much puzzle as was the
terror that had affected him. He was
| slightly but rarely delirious. He lay, much
of the time, in a kindof stupor, from which
he would occasionally arouse with flash of
intelligence and recognition, to be immedi-
ately followed by wild incoherence. Yet
felt, through it all, that his illness was not
| dangerous. So sure of that was / that
called no council. The sixth day came,
and he was so decidedly improved that
felt certain that twenty -four hours more
would witness his convalescence. And the
morrow was the fateful 29th of April.
A sudden inspiration seized me. Why
was it not possible, by an appeal to the
practical, common-sense side of this young
me or 10 inn not ha 90
the victim of a mental delusion? What if
could persuade him that the day of doom
was a week past, at the very time that its
pendulum beats were sounding in his ears?
Would not that test convince him at once
that imagination and fright were at the root
of his trouble?
determined to make the effort. News
papers, calendars, literature of all kinds,
everything that could in any way mark the
lapse of time, were baniBhed from the cham
Der. On the morning of that momentous
day we were all sitting by his bed. Jeanne
held his hand. His eyes opened with life
and intellect in them. A faint smile illu-
mined his wan face as he saw his beloved,
and she bent over and kissed him. He
looked at her mother, evidently recogniz-
ing her. Then his eyes rested inquiringly
on my face, and from the expression of has
face 1 saw that he wished TO speak TO me.
l bent my head near to his lips.
"What hour is it; Doctor?" he whispered.
almost nine in the morning"
what day of the week."
Friday"
He looked full in my eye, with most
searching look. "Strange" / heard him
mutter. That day comes on Wednesday
this year"
For moment he lay silent. His eyes
a, Int Nf Co
showed me that he was summoning his
strength for another question. He opened
his eyes; ii came.
"What day of the month";"
"The Sth of May. You have been sick
more than two weeks"
He stared at me, shuddered, and by an
exerion which l would have thought i'm
possible for one in his condition, sat up
right in bed.
mo, MOI" he whispered hoarsely, Il can
not be deceived; that horrible shadow is
creeping over me again. / feel it see it.!
This-this is the 18th of April"
May God forbid that / should witness
again such hideous mental torment as
afflicted that poor soul during the remain
ing hours of that day! His limbs and body
were rigid as those of the cataleptic; his
other; his teeth were set; his breath came
in gasps between them. What, in those
hours of mortal terror, did he see beyond
the abyss which we could not see? What
did he feel that was intangible to our dull
sense2
After that day he grew steadily better in
bodily health, and the middle of May found
him able to descend the stairs, with Jeanne $
help. Something of his old cheerful
ness came back and | hoped that, under
the girls loving care, he might yet be won
back To mental health. Yet it was plain TO
see that the shadow was still upon him.
Sitting by her side, talking with her or
listening to her reading from favorite
book, L sometimes noticed his eyes falling
in apathy, and sometimes he would start as
/ il in terror at the opening of n door or
some noise from the street. / observed
Jeanne quite as closely as Raymond and
could not but admire the herosm with
which she repressed her grief and stroye to
win him back from the shadows.
On the 1st of June he disappeared. He
did not appear at breakfast; his bed lad
not been slept in, though he had gone up
stairs the night before. For week i did
little else but search for him. The police
could find no trace of him; cautiously